Jurassic Park : Salvation
by e.b woodhouse
Summary: This version of the story mixes the books, the movies, and real life together for one explosive religious thriller!


Sam Neil twirled his oversized cowboy hat with his index finger, exhaled the smoke from his cuban cigar and slitted his eyes against the setting sun. He lounged in front of his archaeology and acting funded mansion and thought...about dinosaurs.

Sam had always been a precocious youth and stared in many low budget films as a child, but he really wanted to study archaelogy and dinosaurs, he just didn't have the money. So he built up his fortune with one gig after the next until he landed the role of a lifetime, playing opposite Jeff Goldbloom in a movie about dinosaurs eating people. Sam was so excited, "sure thing Steve!," he practically shouted into his carphone the afternoon Steven Speilberg called him up and asked him to be in the movie, "I'll be right over," he said, and he kept his promise because he showed up on the set the very next day.

Jeff Goldbloom was awesome and told a lot of funny jokes and for a while Sam was able to forget all about how he hated acting and wanted to go study dinosaurs instead. "Man, Jeff is hilarious," Sam said.

There was a general sense of tension in the air of the set, the whole movie studio was permeated with it. It crawled up into Sam's nostrils and died there, it really stank up the place, crowded already as it was with bushy brown hairs and the remnants of last nights coke fueled hollywood drug party, but Sam tried not to worry about all of that, he figured he would find some way of not having a good time, torn as he was between his love of acting and intense scientific field work, regardless and ignored himself. "It may smell fishy in here but at least all this blockbuster summer tentpole movie money can fund my retirment and further my archaological whims," he told himself over and over.

He almost suceeded in putting himself at ease, but on the third day of filming the atmosphere of tension and secrecy had opressed him into a state of bewildered inertia and he could barely move. Slugishly he went through the motions of getting himself some breakfast from the craft table, the two kid actors where there, playing on their skateboards and hacking computers because that's what 90's kids were like back then. Sam did his best to avoid them, just like his charecter in the movie he had an intesnes and violent hatred of children and women. He grabbed a few donughts and slipped into a seat by the window. He stared out into the rainy California yard and tried his best to zen out but a flurry of movement caught his beady little eyes, a bunch of people, some of them maverick young doctors with a lot of crazy notions by the look of their labcoats and the ace of spades tucked into the brims of their fedoras, where wheeling out a stretcher covered in a bunch of wadded up rags that had all been dipped in red paint, apparently.

Sam scrunched up his eyebrows, bits of strawberry jelly mushed out from between his slightly parted lips as he froze in utter concentration, 'what a crazy thing I am looking at,' he thought to himself. He really had no idea what was going on, why would Steven Spielberg and a bunch of doctors act so concerned over a pile of red paint covered rags? Sam watched as the group scrambled up to a medevac chopper and loaded up the thoroughly ruined linens aboard, the doctors and paramedics got onto the helicopter but Steven Spielberg did not. He waved them off and then turned compeltely around and walked slowly some distance away from where the helicopter had taken off. Stevens brows contracted treacherously and he fingered the scorpion medalion at his neck while he shifted suspicious glances left and right, apparantly, or so it seemed to Sam, checking to be sure he was unobserved. Sam kept absolutely still, the half chewed wad of dough he'd been working on plopped out of his mouth and onto his disposable plate with a tiny wet sound, but he didn't twitch a muscle, willing himself to be unseen.

Sam held his breath, but after a minute it was clear that the director had not seen him and Steven Spielberg pulled out a camo patterned walkie talkie, said something into it and then turned around to glare with upmost contempt at the departing Helicoper, which exploded. Sam cried out in alarm but no one else seemed to notice so he just played it off with a loud fart and quickly rushed back to his trailer. On the way out he almost ran into Jeff Goldbloom, who was also covered in red paint, "Hey J-Gold," Sam said, going in for dabs, but Jeff left him hanging and quickly hurried past. Sam thought it was really odd how the usually low key actor seemed completely horrified by something, he was paler than usual and twitched all over with tiny spasms of fright or possibly incomprehension.

" _What did you see, Jeff_?!" Sam hissed intensely once he was alone, he pounded his fist against the wall, he couldn't stop thinking about the mans strange behavior and it basically ruined his whole day.

The first couple of scenes he had to do were easy beacuse they didn't have any lines so the camera men just followed him around a bit as he went about his day to culminate footage to use as wordless reaction shots and promotional stills. But then the big moment was finally upon him out of nowhere, it was finally his turn to do a scene that had a dinosaur in it. Steven Spielberg himself come out to personally film the shot so that it would absolutely perfect, but before he fired up the camera he pulled Sam aside to a dark and quiet corner of the set for a private talk.

"So," Steven said, he seemed to be nervously stalling for time and Sam couldn't help but feel like something crazy was about to happen.

"Out with it old man," Sam said, he advanced upon the aging director menacingly, it was his time for answers, he was fed up with the lies, with all the hollywood glamour and deceit, "I respect you like a father," he said caressing Steven's wrinkly cheeks,"but I need some goddamn answers or someone is going to pay," he cracked his knuckles menacingly. He tried to do it without wincing because that ruined the effect but it felt really weird to him so he kind of blinked and scrunched up his face when he did it, but it still read as threatening and the aged director trembled under his wroth.

"It's a secret so you can't tell anybody," Steven said, testing the waters, Sam kept his gaze, unblinking, "but it's cheaper and more realistic looking to use actual dinosaurs than to cook them up with a computer or a rubber suit, so today, you'll be acting alongside a real life Pteradon!" Steven figuerd Sam would be excited... and he was right.

Sam forgot all about beating the old man senseless once he finally understood the wonders which were about to be imparted to him, he had always wanted to study dinosaurs, and now here was his chance to do so... up close and personal!

About six months later Sam and Sarah Harding were hanging out at her apartment. She had decided to use her real name for the movie since everything that happened in it happened in real life anyway because it's cheaper to film that way. Sarah put out her cigarette and went to get some more lemonade. "You drink a lot of lemonade Sam," she said on her way to the kitchen.

Sam wanted to say, "get back in the kitchen," but when he thought of it to say he started laughing and by the time he'd gotten himself under control she was already in the kitchen. Jeff Goldbloom was on the way over, they were all going to hang out on Sarah's wraparound porch and drink lemonade and watch the sun go down, and once the darkness had fallen one or the other would finaly break the tension and mention... that place... that terrible place where they'd seen so many friends lose life and limb.

Samuel L. Jackson had suffered a major reversal of fortunes in hollywood once he'd lost his arm to the velociraptor attack and had not scored any major roles since, the last time Sarah had seen him he was studying under a world renowned sushi chef and had decided to leave the glitz and glamour of tinsel town behind. Poor Samual L..

By the time Sarah found the porch again Jeff had parked his cherry red Hummer XL on the lawn and was ponderously getting out. He still walked with a significant limp after the Tyrannasaur had gnawed on his leg. "Hey guys what's up," he said, shuffling awkwardly up Sarah's sloped yard to met them.

They all greeted each other and spent a goodly amount of time just relaxing and enjoying the evening breeze without doing anything. They looked like a pack of fools but it was nice, they had spent 6 hellish months on an island being chased around by dinosaurs and even though that was over a dozen years ago they could still use a break, so they sat around not doing anything for quite some time. Right when Sam was about to mention Isla Nublar all of their cell phones began to ring at once. Three sets of eyes flicked down and then slowly back up to meet in a triangle of aprehension, Stephen Speilberg was calling them, and he was using Sarah's house phone!

"What do we do!" Sarah hissed, she was in a state of near feral panic and broke her lemonade glass against the porch railing. She gripped the jagged remnants of her glass like some wicked dagger oblivious to the torrent of blood that fell from her tight grip, she did so much yoga that she was basically immune to pain. Jeff and Sam where still flabbergasted by the first crazy thing and had no idea how to react to yet another one of Sarah's crazy emotional outbursts so they couldn't stop her before she began to charge forward, answering her own question, "we stand and fight!"

Luckily Sam tripped her before she could completely blow their cover and as Jeff hobbled over on his gnawed up legs Sam snickering fit to split helped Sarah get to her feet abashedly, "sorry guys, it's that time of the month," she admitted and felt a lot better now that she had left behind all of those crazy schemes and feminine plots.

"Don't worry about it," Jeff wheezed, he refused to give up his cigars even though stumbling around on his tattered remnants of a leg left him often out of breath. They all huddled together to discuss what to to do, but because of Sarah's feckishness they hadn't actually managed to get anywhere, before they could come up with anything Sam felt a tapping on his back, he turned around stiffly and slow... it was Steven Spielberg!

"Oh shit!" Sam shouted out and jumped to his feet then tumbled over backwards in shock. He recovered his cool quickly enough after that though and he shot a warning glance to his two comrades, "just act cool, I got this," he said.

He strolled casually over to Stephen, slapping mud and clods of earth off of his trousers, he had taken a rather nasty tumble but tried not to show it, around Spielberg types it's best not to show fear. "Hey Steve, we were just talking about you," Sam said, casually.

"Oh not much," the director replied, "movies and stuff, but that's not what I'm here to talk about, it's Isla Nublar!" Jeff and Sam and Sarah all gasped, Isla Nublar? Wasn't that the island where they had seen all those dinosaurs in that movie? It seemed like it was. Sarah began tremlbing and Jeff Goldbloom tried his best to console her.

"What about Isla Nublar?" Sam asked, his cowboy hat was cocked really far down his face and hid his eyes like his casual tone hid his racing heartbeat at the mention of that damned island where he had nearly been killed...

"There are Still dinosaurs on it, to this very day!" Steven's proclamation was too much for Sarah, who promptly fainted. Sam rushed over to help her up and banged his shin on Sarah's cheap coffee table on the way. "Look what you have done damn you!"

It took a long time for Sarah to come around and in the meantime Sam rummaged through her kitchen looking for a snack to tide them all over while they waited on her. Jeff pulled out a packet of cigars from under his leather jacket and they sparked up while water set to boil for coffee. Steven said he really liked _The Life Aquatic with Steve Seziou_ to Jeff but Jeff just shook his head very slowly like he was dissapointed and said he wasn't n that movie.

"I'm pretty sure you were in _the Life Aquatic_ ," Stephen Speilberg said, but Jeff kept shaking his head and insisted he wasn't, then he sighed really loud and look right at Sam and mouthed something that Sam couldn't make out but caught the gist of.

Steven coughed a little and they just zoned out while Sarah woke up from her concussion. The water in the kettle boiled out and the kettle itself began to melt before Sam remembered it and he came running back into hte living room shaking and slapping Sarah while shouting, "wake up! Your damn kitchen is on fire!"

She began to come around, slowly at first, blinking and trying to focus her crossed eyes, there was a huge red bruise on the side of her temple that stretched from her forehead to her jawline, she threw up a little, then lurched into the kitchen, which was now thoroughly ablaze making panicked gasping sounds of imcomprehending daze. "I'm a guest, I'm not cleaning that shit up," Sam said, taking his seat.

"I hear you man," Jeff said while Sarah grabbed a pot of water and splashed it onto her stovetop just in time to avoid severe property damage. By the time she got back into the living room Stephen was finally getting around to telling his unwieldy tale, "so you mean to tell me there are still dinosaurs on Isla Nublar?" Sam asked well near astounded by the news the crazy old man imparted.

Stephen nodded his head, "and I'm sure you can guess what that means," he said. Jeff Goldbloom reacted with intense fury to this and slammed his fist on Sarah's coffee table, nearly breaking it in half, "those sick bastards..." he muttered, too overcome with fury to continue speaking further.

"That's right," Spielberg agreed, "it's well unconscionable, all those dinosaurs just running around, living in sin and lying together out of wedlock," he said, wipping his glasses with his shirt tail. Sam and Jeff were agreeing with him a lot it seemed, "it's a mockery of our faith," he concluded.

Sarah also agreed with them, she sat down on the yellow divan across from where Jeff Goldbloom was sitting. Stephen lit another cigar and continued, "that's why I called you all together, everyone knows you three are the most religious actors around!"

It was all true, they really were the most religious actors in hollywood; Sam loudly and often professed faith in Christ, Sarah practiced Spiritual Yoga, and Jeff Goldbloom is a Jew. Steve really know how to play people like that and they all began to fall under his sway and were imagining planting the flag of their respective faith atop the highest peak of the dinostrewn island. Their eyes shone deep sparks as the fantasy enveloped them and none notice Spielberg fiddling with the scorpion medallion at his neck, twirling it ever so...

They were starting to see his side of things a little better but the trio of reluctant friends remained just so and as usual this emotional current within the group found expression in Jeff with a caustic remark delivered with classic Jeff Goldbloom snark, "I suppouse you'll be sitting this one out," he surmised cyincally.

But Stephen was having none of that, "of course I wouldn't send you to your deaths without putting myself at risk as well, you know I wouldn't play you like that," he was so mad about Jeff's heinous accusation he was shaking, spilling cigar ash everywhere in the process. His dander sure was up. No one said anything for a while, they all weighed out the risks against the sheer outrage of it all. None of them ever wanted to go back to that damned island for anyreason, but they couldn't simply sit by and let those terrible lizards mock their faith by continuing to live in sin.

Finally Sarah decided to break the contemplative silence. "If we reallly are going, and it looks like we are," here she paused to catch eyes with Jeff and Sam who held no disagreement in their pupils, "then I'd better tell all of my pet monkeys about it so they don't freak out and trash the house again while I'm gone, they sure are excitable." Sarah was a big fan of Tipi Hedron so she collected exotic pets and acted in movies just like her hero.

Sam got excitment because he had never seen a monkey before and he wondered how Sarah managed to keep them hidden inside of her apartment, he sure hadn't seen any monkeys there any of the other times he had come over for lemonade. To his surprise Sarah went straight outside, "Guess they're outside pets," Jeff muttered, he had snuck up beside Sam with his silent ways and startled him something fierce but Sam did his best to play it off. If he had learned any one thing during all of his dangerous archaeological expeditions it was to never show fear, especailly around a jew.

Stephen also got up out of his seat and the three interested men all hobbled out of the apartment just in time to see Sarah walk to the edge of the large decidious forest that surounded her apartment on all sides for miles around. "So that's where she keeps all of her monkeys," Sam mused aloud but Jeff just scowled at him and gave him a mean look and said, "what monkeys," he said it quietly enough to seem like he didn't mean to be overheard but it was clear he did. Sam shrugged this off, Jeff was difficult at times but they had bonded over that Tyranosaur attack all those years ago and Sam figured he'd be grouchy too if his legs had been chewed up like slim jims.

They fell into silence as Sarah raised up her arms and began a wild ululating cry, "AAAAIIIIIIIYIIYIIYIIIYIIIIYII" she screeched out. Sam had no idea she had such lungs on her and winced at the awful ruckus she stirred up, Jeff and Stephen were trying to stifle cruel laughter, she was making a sight of herself with all that racket, "YIYIYIYIYIYIYIYIYIYIYIYI!" She called again and again, twirling her hands at the ends of her outstretched arms like a lazy dancer, "YIYIYIYIYIYI!"

Sam had had about enough and couldn't take anymore of Sarah's crazy noises when the first monkey came crashing through the trees to greet its mistress. He fell to his knees, completely overcome by the majesty of the little hairy thing, it was a spider monkey or something like one and chittered and capered around Sarah's heels, but she did not stop her piercing call and soon a cacophony of snapping twigs, rustled leaves and swinging hairy bodies brushed against Sam's eardrums with a portent of evil, he tried to push away the bad vibes but they piled one atop the other and he couldn't help but ask by the time about a dozen or so more monkeys had appeared, each vying for Sarah's attention, jupming atop the others and imitating the noises she made, "just how many monkeys _do_ you have, Sarah?"

Sarah didn't turn to answer Sam, she tweaked a hand at him impatiently and continued, "ayiyiyiyiyiyiyiyiyiyi" she screamed and screamed and monkeys continued to pour out of the woods into the small and increasingly close clearing. Jeff was having a blast, he had handed his cigar to a monkey in the hopes of making a quick friend of it but several other monkeys caught sight of this and became jealous and soon enough there was a full on brawl at his ankles as monkey after monkey pummleled scratched and slapped one another, eventually forming into a pulsating mound of brown hair sharp little teeth and claws writhing at his feet coming up to about the height of his mutilated kneecaps. Stephen Spielberg was also laughing fit to split and everyone seemed to be having a good time, but still the monkeys came and Sam began to feel very nervous, "maybe we should go inside guys," he said but no one could hear him over the riotous monkeys and Sarah's grating yelping.

"AYIYIYIYIYIYIYIYIYIYI!" Sarah continued to call out to the night, she had been doing it for about 3 minutes straight now and Sam wondered how she had been able to keep such a racket going for so long. Her throat should surely be dried and parched by now he figured and hoped that soon she would exhaust herself and the monkeys would stop coming but still they flung themselves out from the tree line one followed by another followed by a dozen more. Sam's knees began to feel weak, he turned to Jeff to see how his buddy was making out and if maybe he had finally realized the danger they were in but the raven headed fellow had nearly disapeared underneath an every growing mass of little monkeys. He was laughing and laughing as the monkeys continued to fight over the little stub of a cigar he had given them, they also rucked about in his tangly mop of hair and one had managed to peel off his sweat soaked leather jacket and a bunch of them were rolling around inside of it. One of the monkeys, an older female by the looks of her, had gotten stuck while trying to crawl through the sleeve from the inside out. As the sleeve narrowed she became increasingly panicked and was soon screeching and yelping loudly enough to drown out Sarah's seemingly never ending call.

Sarah dropped her arms and turned to the new commotion happening around Jeff and as she did so all the other monkeys, several hundred in number by this point, also dropped everything and stared at the flipping and flapping jacket that had an old monkey stuck in it. There was a moment of deathly silence as all eyes focused on one point. And then all hell broke loose.

Sam had thought that Sarah was a really on point chick but this crazy display was starting to change his opinion of her. The monkeys weren't just fooling around anymore, each and every one became filled to the brim with an electric fury. Jeff Goldbloom screamed out in pain and terror as a trio of monkeys clambered up his shoulders and began to rip the hair straight off of his head by the little fuzzy handfull. Some other monkeys, about 20 of them or so, began picking up handfulls of rocks from the driveway and yard and hurled them through Sarah's windows, shattering them thoroughly, "oh no!" Sarah wailed, " _they always do this_!" , she wished her monkeys would behave for once. A rock hit her on the forehead raising a nasty red gash across her pale skin.

The front door had been left slightly ajar and it creaked open wide in the breeze, "shit!" Sarah yelled when she saw this, "don't let them in the house, they'll destroy it again!" She rain pell mell up the sloping yard to her porch but barely made it four feet when she tripped over a monkey, and, once on the ground, was immediately aswarm with them. They were screeching and pissing everywhere in their extreme state of agitation and Sarah nearly drowned under the writhing mass of amonia reeking little bodies. "Help!" Sam could just barely make out her raised outstretched hand. He was in a near feral state of panic by this point, neither Stephen nor Jeff were to be seen and he said a silent prayer that they might somehow make it out alive.

It suddenly all made sense to Sam, about 8 months out of the year Sarah refused to invite guests over claiming that her house was being renovated and repaired but it always seemed shabby, "it all adds up," Sam mused grimly to himself.

Gingerly picking his way amongst the sea of monkeys he stepped quickly up to the porch and the door and tried his damndest to slam it shut against the surge of monkeys that were now pouring into the house, but push as he might he couldn't reverse the tide. Soon Sarah was right behind him, reeking of monkey piss and terror, she placed her hands next to his and the two finally managed to wrench the door closed. But it was too late, at least a good seventy or eighty of the monkeys had gotten into the house. Peeking in through the broken window Sam caught sight of white foam floating through the air like in a snow globe as the monkeys began ripping Sarah's couch and love seat to shreds, flinging the stuffing into the air lackadaisically. "Oh no, that's my favorite Couch!" Sarah pouted when she saw what they were doing in her living room, from the kitchen came the sound of breaking glasses.

A couple of monkeys had discovered her dvd and bluray collection and as she watched in resignation and horror they shat on them, jumped up and down on them and then threw them out the window. Copies of Death Wish 2 and Theodore Rex went spinning out the window to land amongst the riot of fur fangs and flung feces outside, riling them up further.

Monkeys continued to pour from the woods and had thoroughly covered the yard and all the vehicles on it. They were now climbing up the sides of the house. The gutters soon collapsed under their weight and a dozen screaming monkeys plummeted to the ground clinging to the white twisted tubes with a little of the detritus of last fall still squashed up inside them. Those monkeys got the leaf and gutter muck all over their hands and smeared it all over the side of Sarah's apartment as they retried the summit. Sarah grapped one of hte rocking chairs and propped it against the door, "there she said," taking a moment to wipe the sweat off her brow, "that should hold them in there for a while, hopefully they'll calm down soon, I've got a lot of Xannax in my bathroom."

Sam was pissed off about this, "damn girl, why didn't you mention that earlier," he could really use some relaxtion by this point, but he wasn't ready to give it all up for a bad job yet. Jeff and Stephen Spielberg were still out there and he knew he couldn't possibly convert all the dinosaurs of Isla Nublar without them, maybe without Sarah, he figured, especially if she tried to bring her monkeys along with her, but it was clearly not possible without those two.

Sarah pressed her ear up against the door, which was rattling and shaking nearly off of its hinges because of all the monkeys pilled up against it trying to get back outside. "I think it's starting to calm down in there, this should work." She shouted to Sam who could just barely hear her even though they stood a mere foot apace.

Sam could hear resounding crashes still coming from inside as well as Sarah's smoke alarm going off again, thick black clouds of smoke wafted out of the thoroughly shattered windows, but he didn't want to burst her bubble so he patted her on the shoulder, "yeah, that should hold," he said, pulling on the neck of his shirt while she said so. A small dresser crashed through an upstairs windows and flew, spinning and shedding its contents on the way, to smash into the ground in an explosion of white painted wood splinters.

Sarah was about to rush out to it so she could save all her nightgowns from the frenzied monkeys but Sam stopped her just in time. The front porch was the only place not covered in monkeys and he didn't dare let her step off of it just yet. In the yard the monkeys pried open the dresser and began pulling out all of Sarah's bedclothes with wild abandon. They fluttered in the breeze, light and diaphanous as they were, only to be snatched by cruel grubby hands. The monkeys seemed to really enjoy her private clothing and began holding the evening gowns and bras up to their chests like they were wearing them and strutting around pompously. This caused a gale of hateful laughter to erupt all around the dresser, atop of which where the previously mentioned performers. The dresser rocked and swayed on the pulsing sea of shiny black and brown monkeys. Sarah was red faced with shame, "how can they be so cruel?" She sobbed and flung herself onto Sam who did his best to comfort her while the monkeys continued their savagery.

Eventually they found her birth control pills and began flinging them about causing Sarah to gasp anew, then they found her dildos. The monkey which had been strutting around in Sarah's sequined red bra flung itself on the withdrawn eggplant purple, and sized, vibrator as soon as it was visible. He wrapped his fuzzy monkey arms around the widest point and accidently activated it with one of his toes. The thing began to shake violently sending up a loud rapping stacato drumming off the wooden dresser top, the clutching monkey held on for dear life, wailing in frightened protest. All the other monkeys nearby dropped what they were doing and fell over, clutching their sides, pointing and laughing at the hapless perfomer monkey. He had only ever wanted to entertain, and now this.

Sam thought it was pretty funny too but he also realised this was the perfect opportunity to try and rescue his friends now. He slapped some sense into Sarah and when he had her attention asked, "are you with me?"

She nodded resolutely and the two, holding hands, descended into the maelstrom. Only two steps off the porch and it was already hard going. The monkeys were mostly placid now, entertained as they were, but they refused to budge and Sam was obliged to step on a lot of monkeys to make it to where he had last seen Jeff Goldbloom, still laughing fit to split while monkeys covered every inch of his body. Sam did his best not to step on any monkeys but it was impossible to avoid it completely and by the time he'd reached his destination he had several monkeys wrapped around both his feet and ankles clawing and biting their way to revenge. But Jeff was nowhere to be seen!

It was then that Sam noticed the presence by his side had disapeared, he tried to call out to her but his voice was swallowed by the din. She had finally noticed her apartment was on fire and ran back inside to try and save as many of her pets as she could. "Looks like it's down to me after all," Sam mused grimly. That was when he noticed Steven Spielberg who was trying to sneak away down the driveway. He was making good time but the monkeys had spotted him as well and they converged upon him from all sides. Stevphen held out his Scorpion amulet to try and ward them off, but it availed him not.

"I don't have time to save that traitor as well as Jeff Goldbloom," Sam decided,

and, tucking his cowboy hat firmly over his brows he spun back to face the yard yelling out, "I'm coming for you buddy!" Above the clamour he thought he heard an answering groan and found its source just in time to see Jeff Goldbloom being carried into the woods by monkeys. By the time Sam found where they had taken him the only thing left where picked clean white bones glinting against the evening redness from the west.


End file.
